IVF.ca Forums: The Cancellation of Christmas - IVF.ca Forums

Hello all, yes it's been a few weeks since my last post. I'll try to update as best I can. I receieved the call from my mom on Dec 11 (I think) that my dad was dying. So me being the chicken shit that I am did my best to avoid dealing with this emotional crisis...until DH took off early from work and gave me the kick in the pants that I needed. While I wandered aimlessly around the house, he threw together bags of clothes and we jumped in the car for the long late night drive (6 hours on dreaded highway, snowing all the way ofcourse).

We reached my parent's house about 2 a.m. and the only person awake was my brother, who was coping with the crisis by slamming back beer. My dad was asleep in a hospital bed in the living room. I sat beside him for a bit and then we trumbled off to bed. The next morning the DR came to visit and said that my dad's cancer has travelled to his brain. He cannot move (other than one hand to point) and could not speak (other than a grunt of yes or no). The DR said his best guess would be that my dad would die Tuesday or Wednesday.

I spent the next few days trying my best to sit with him, telling off visitors, bawling my eyes out, and feeling the silence of the last four years since I have spoken to my father. It was too late now to hear "Jenn I love you," "Jenn you are not a failure", or "Jenn I forgive you and I am sorry." Instead there lay a man with no dignity, laying in his own waste, unable to communicate with anyone or anything. He had refused IV, Oxygen, and a catheter. So there we were, my brothers and I trying to place the urinal in the correct spot, lifting his tumor ridden body, hearing him moan in pain, and trying to put diaper rash cream on the bed sore and radiation burns. When I close my eyes, I can still feel the hundreds of tumour bulges under his skin.

Well, Tuesday and Wednesday came and went. We were all living one on top of another, with no sleep, each of us with our own issues to deal with. My dad (being the stubborn man that he was, refusing to let go when the DR said he would) died last Thursday with all of us sitting by his side as he gasped and convulsed for his last breath. As we waited for the cremation guys to come and pick up his body, my sister in laws dressed him up in his favorite blue jeans and vest, put his ugly hat on his head, and a flask of black russian in his pocket and at least he looked more peaceful. Golden Oldies Jukebox music was playing in the background and I asked my dad to pick out his exit song. Right as he was placed on the stretcher, a song began to play that was a token song in my dad's life. My mom's mouth dropped and she raced into the kitchen to grab the list of three songs she planned to play at my father's funeral. Lo and behold, the song playing at that exact moment was on the top of the list. So the next few days were spent planning for the most untraditional service ever, which was held on Monday.

Tuesday we all got a hotel room and did our best to celebrate XMas for the nieces and nephews. All I can say is through all of this, my DH was right by my side. He has only met my mother twice and never met my entire family before (hence me not speaking with my father for the past 4 years), yet he was the most supportive and amazing man I could ever imagine. He sat in the "smoker's lounge" (the garage with a wood stove) and played "Dr Phil" to anyone who needed to vent, cry, scream, or rage. He cleaned the house, went on beer runs, bough my mom a punching bag, and organized her chaotic garage. He was my rock, my support, and staying in another city with my family for 2 weeks while our furnace might be kicking out and no knowing what time off for work he was taking, he was a champ and never said a word.

Now my mother wholeheartedly believes that my father and I made peace. And I will continue to play that facade to protect her, but unfortunately I did not take the same healing from that as she believes I did. Everyone kept telling me, well you're here when it matters... and my internal response is NO! It has mattered the last 4 years when he was sick but alive!!! Or when people (inlcuding my mom) said Now we can be a family again, and my internal response is MY DAD HAD TO DIE FOR THAT TO HAPPEN???

Anyway, I am trying to work through this as best as I can. And I don't think I am doing a very good job of it. Since returning home, I have sat on the couch listless and alone. I "know" life moves on, yet I feel guilty for doing things, smiling, laughing, so I don't. DH is worried about me and I am feeling so guilty about leaving my mom. I don't know how I am going to go back to work next week and be a mental health counselor when I can't even say hello without breaking into tears. PLUS, addind an IVF cycle to all of this... I am supposed to start suprefact tomorrow. DH and I have gone back and forth about whether to cancel the cycle or not. I know it's probably smarter to cancel, but in the same respect at least if we were cycling I'd be DOING something, have some motivation to eat, sleep, get up and around... I don't know. Anyway, Christmas Eve was spent watching Season 1 of Desperate Housewives. Christmas Day DH worked so I sat alone and surfed the internet, Boxing Day, pretty much the same. Today, I have a goal to tidy the house a bit and maybe get some groceries. DH is working again, so I basically have been sitting on the couch with dark thoughts filling my brain. I've got to try to get out of this slump.